


Tight trousered thief

by TheTrashiestQueen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Thievery, that damned umbrella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6362551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrashiestQueen/pseuds/TheTrashiestQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our Baker Street boys on a plan to steel something precious.</p>
<p>(I know I suck at titles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tight trousered thief

"I want it." Sherlock was sitting in his chair, legs folded, head resting on his entwined hands, staring distantly past John. "Why? Why would you want your brother's umbrella?" Sherlock's eyes focused on John, he sat opposite of Sherlock, he saw a determined look in his eyes. "I just want it, I want something of his, something that matters to him, something he would miss if it disappeared. I would take his food, he would most certainly miss it but that is way easier to replace." "He would know it is you the instant you take it, Sherlock." "Yeah." Sherlock smirked. He squinted his eyes at John and leaned forwards on his chair. "So this is the plan..." Before he could start explaining John interrupted, "I'm not helping you steal Mycroft's umbrella." "Of course you are." John stood up and walked towards the kitchen, ignoring Sherlock. "It's not like you've got anything better to do." Sherlock said, following John with his gaze. "So that's why you want to do it? Cause you've got nothing better to do, no case for weeks, you're bored." "Partly. Of course I'm bored, did it take so long for you to find out? You're slower than I thought." Sherlock snapped at John. He abruptly stood up, "Come, come, John do keep up." He said while putting on his coat. "What..where..." John started but Sherlock just swirled out of the door and John quickly followed, even though he insisted he wouldn't help Sherlock steal his brother's umbrella.

They arrived at The Diogenes Club. "Sherlock, you know he keeps the cursed thing close at hand, there is no way we can get into his office, snatch the umbrella and run." John said, glancing unimpressed at Sherlock. "You are way too quick to make conclusions. We are just going to take a look, so we know where he keeps it and the surroundings, and based on that information we'll make a plan."

Sherlock just stormed right through the building to Mycroft's office, not bothering to inform him about the visit and ignoring the staff, and John followed right behind, looking apologetic around. Sherlock barged through the door of Mycroft's office, standing still for a second and looking around, observing the room and remembering every detail. "Mycroft!" He said excitedly, while John just managed to awkwardly cough with a small "Hullo." "Brother, Doctor Watson..." Mycroft was sitting at his desk, graceful as ever, just barely glancing up from his papers to eye them suspiciously. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He was already looking back down at his papers again, clearly not interested. "Now you mention it, Mycroft, I seem to have quite forgotten. " Sherlock lied, while pretending to look puzzled. And just as abruptly as he stormed in he was marching out again without another word. John looked between Mycroft en Sherlock for a moment, than nodded politely goodbye to Mycroft and quickly followed Sherlock again.

"So, how are we going to do this?" They sat in a cab, back to Baker Street. Sherlock was staring out of the window, thinking. "We can clearly not take it at the Diogenes, he keeps it by his desk, it would be impossible. We have to take it while he is not so close by..." There was a short pause in which Sherlock squinted his eyes before starting to smile widely. "Or while he is even closer."

Sherlock had enlightened John of his plan, as he clearly did not follow. "We'll send one person of my Homeless Network, cause it would be too obvious if one of us would do it. We have to do it on the street when Mycroft is walking with his umbrella, not on a rainy day. Our person, who would do good to have a broad build, will bump hard into Mycroft, on the right side where he holds his umbrella. He would most like let the thing fall out of his hand and our man would also let his umbrella fall but quickly pick Mycroft's umbrella up which looks quite the same as his, so Mycroft will only notice they swapped umbrellas after our man has already run off." Sherlock looked quite happy with his plan. "That's the most ridiculous plan ever." John grinned. Sherlock snapped his head at him accusingly. "Do you have a better plan than? No, Than we'll go with mine."

The plan didn't go as well as they had hoped, their man of the Homeless Network, Peter, would do their task for an acceptable sum. He came back with a bruised wrist. Sherlock looked with disdain when the man came back empty handed. He told them he had done as told, bumped hard against Mycroft's hand that was holding the umbrella, but he was sturdier than he looked and didn't even flinch, he just fixed him with an unimpressed, stern gaze and walked further. Sherlock growled and went to angrily sit brooding for a new plan after paying Peter for his efforts.

Today was a rainy day, Sherlock had been sulking in his chair for days, there were no interesting cases, no new bodies he could do some fun experiments with and he couldn't come up with a new plan to steal the damned umbrella. John was making them tea, when he got a message.

If convenient come immediately to the my office. I've got some important people over, and there might be an interesting case for you.  
MH

He jumped of the couch and went to put on his coat. "Forget the tea John, we have more important business." John didn't even question it, he just went with Sherlock.

It was horribly boring and John had to resist the urge to yawn. There were two men of high status talking about something John wasn't quite following. He was looking around the room, big windows, big doors, high ceiling everything was oversized here. Than his eyes landed on it: Mycroft's umbrella in a basket by the door, it was raining so it wasn't clasped by his side. This is their chance, he thought. He coughed a little. "Excuse me, I have to use the loo." With that he stood up, the other men briefly looked at him, but continued their conversation. By the door he quickly snatched the umbrella. Now only how to keep it with him, he can't just not come back that would be rude, but if he leaves it outside someone else might find it and take it somewhere else. Suddenly he got an idea, it was the worst idea ever but he went with it anyway. He went to the toilet, with the umbrella, and there he proceeded to stuff the umbrella in his trousers. He could not bend his leg anymore, it was extremely uncomfortable in his tight jeans and it was quite obvious there was something in his pants. But he was going walk into the room and say his bad leg suddenly stiffened up, that he couldn't properly walk anymore and hope Sherlock would catch up on his plan and Mycroft too polite is to say anything about it with his important guests. He smirked at himself and started to stump back.

"Uhm excuse me, my bad leg has gone all stiff, I think I'll need to rest it. At home." There was a short pause and he saw Sherlock's mouth twist, he was trying not to start laughing. Mycroft fixed him with a look that said he knew exactly what was going on, and he was not amused but before he could say anything, Sherlock stood up and quickly rushed to John's side. "Oh, no. I'm sorry gentleman, you'll have to excuse us, I'll have to take Doctor Watson here immediately home if he puts too much pressure on his leg it'll only get worse." Mycroft looked at them like he was going to kill them but Sherlock quickly wrapped John's arm over his shoulder to support him and half dragged him out of the building.

Once they were in a cab, they looked at each other grinning, and clearly putting effort in it to not start laughing out loud, cause that would make the cab driver suspicious and he doesn't have to know there is an umbrella stuffed in his pants. "Brilliant, John." Sherlock commented but for the rest of the ride they kept silently smiling.

When they arrived home, Sherlock helped him out of the cab, up the stairs and into their apartment. The door closes behind them and they looked each other in the eye before they both burst into a loud laughing fit. John grabbed onto Sherlock's shoulder for support as he almost fell to the ground. When they both could breath normally again, John suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable again, with the umbrella still in his trousers. "Help me out would you?" He said to Sherlock and without any warning Sherlock pulled John close by tugging at his pants and wringed his arm in John's tight jeans. He was trying to get to the umbrella and looked up a little to see that John had turned a crimson colour and he smirked. Sherlock finally got hold of the umbrella and with a little effort he managed to tug it out. "Aha." He said as he hold the umbrella in the air, looking excitedly at it. He squared his shoulders, and put on a serious, stern face. Pointing the umbrella to the floor, and walking around the room like he was Mycroft. After some time he threw the umbrella at John, who easily snatched it from the air. He did his own impression of Sherlock's brother, even though he had to admit Sherlock's was better, before sitting down in his chair and laughing with Sherlock. "We got it." John said almost breathless from the laughing. "We sure do." Sherlock smirked. "Did you see my brother's face, John? Brilliant!" John smirked too. "What is it actually about this thing, that makes it so special? It seem pretty ordinary to me. Sure, expensive but everything of Mycroft's is." John wondered. "I honestly don't know, he came home with it once and it's been there ever since." Sherlock's phone buzzed, a text from Mycroft.

I hope you and Doctor Watson have had your fun, and would very much appreciate it if you now returned what belongs to me.  
MH

"Mycroft?" "Yes, he wants his umbrella back. But I don't think we should make it easy for him, and we haven't had quite enough fun yet." With that Sherlock leaped from his chair, grabbed the umbrella and stood still in the middle of the room, face turning towards John. "Doctor Watson, could I be so kind to escort you." He said with a ridiculous accent. "Oh, Mister Holmes that would be utmost pleasant." John reacted with just as bad of an accent and took Sherlock's offered arm. Off they went.

**Author's Note:**

> That was possibly the worst idea I've ever had for a fic.


End file.
